Baramulla: A Town of Love and Tragedy
Sixty kilometers north of Srinagar, Baramulla is a picturesque town surrounded by lofty mountains, on the banks of river Jhelum in North Kashmir. It is almost midway between Srinagar and Uri, where the line of control exists between India and Pakistan. This is the same National Highway, which connects Kashmir with the rest of India.
Before Partition of India and Pakistan, Baramulla was also called the gateway to Kashmir because it was only through this road, that the people could have access to the beautiful Valley of Kashmir, from Muzaffarabad. It used to be a favorite vacation retreat for many.
Seven decades later, even today, this beautiful town represents the microcosm pluralism of Kashmir. In Baramulla, we have one of the oldest convent schools in the Kashmir valley, the famous, St Joseph’s. While passing through the national highway one can see the school, St. Joseph’s Hospital, and Church. Just a few kilometers across the bridge on Jhelum, on the right bank of the river, is the famous Shailputri temple which we often call Devi Mandir. Many locals even today consider this, a very sacred place. Along the temple right next, is the famous Ziayrat Janbaz Wali — a sacred place for the Muslims in Kashmir. Opposite these Hindu & Islamic holy shrines, is the Sikh shrine across the Jhelum, the most revered, Gurdwara Chevin Pathshahi. It is here that the sixth guru of the Sikhs, Hargobind Sahib had visited and the gurudwara was built in his memory. Even today, this Gurudwara remains important for the Sikhs — the only microscopic minority living in Kashmir. If you have been in Kashmir, you must have noticed that different religious places exist at close proximity to each other at many places. All these are the last remaining symbols of the plurality and the composite culture of Kashmir, which was lost after the 1990s. The Kashmir, which we have often heard of, but unfortunately, never lived. The idea of Kashmir, which our parents shared with us.
Baramulla in 1947
Baramulla town has seen history unfolding from times immemorial. In 1947, the tribal (Qabalis) raided the town and destroyed it. The entire town was ransacked and looted. People were killed and houses were burnt. The last remaining survivors even after seven decades of the incident remember the horrors of 1947. However, the majority of the people who were killed here were Sikhs. Sikhs because of their turban and beard were identified easily. Many Sikh women were abducted here. These stories of barbarism of 1947 remained an integral part of the community memory of Sikhs in Kashmir.
Even today, the partition narratives on Kashmir are missing. The human cost of the division is still not written. My grandparents were among those Sikh refugees who lost their family members. They walked barefoot from Baramulla to Srinagar, day and night, in kafilas (a gathering of people moving together to a different place), taking refuge in the day in few local Muslims houses, who helped them. They reached like the thousands of others who were uprooted from their homes from Muzaffarabad to Srinagar. In Srinagar, the exhibition ground became the refugee camp for them for months and later, years. Later they were given little money by the Government headed by Sheikh Abdullah so they could go back to their homes. The amount was minimal, which hardly could have made difference to their lives. Sikhs of Kashmir went back to their villages. Many young kids were now orphans, many young women were now widows, many were abducted and many were killed. They were broken by circumstances but with their courage and indomitable will, rebuilt their lives. The biggest loss for the Sikhs in Kashmir in 1947 was the loss of all leadership. Most prominent leaders were killed.
Hope after despair
Life moves on! People started coming out of those days of terror and started rebuilding their lives. St Joseph, the school became the hub of the young minds, learning, and education. The Government Degree College, Baramulla became a center of knowledge, for many budding impressionable minds. It was also among the few co-educational institutions. People across the nearby villages started settling down in the main town to get basic education. Baramulla was again witnessing, the new wave of hope after long despair. My parents studied from this College. The period also saw the emergence of a new middle class in the valley. One thing which is still famous in the minds of those generations is how India and Pakistan’s cricket matches were a fun event in the town. The young Sikh boys and few Muslims use to quarrel so much that a holiday was declared. However, that allegiance and love for cricket match were limited only to the match and sport itself. It never spilled over the everyday relationship between the people.
Another important attraction of the town was the movie theater. Two movie theaters, Thimmaya Hall and Regina theater were the favorite places for the locals to hang out. My uncles used to tell me how they used to bunk the college and school, to go to the cinema halls and then how easy it was for them, to get caught by their parents because the town was so small and information spread so easily. Those are the memories of our parent’s generation where love, laughter, hard work, and the idea of a good life was the essence of living.
After 1989
Soon after 1989, a new wave of radicalization engulfed the vale of Kashmir. It eroded the entire fabric of the Kashmiri society. Kashmiri Pandits were targeted and killed. They left Kashmir forever. I remember growing up seeing their abandoned houses. After the Kashmir Pandit exodus, the other Kashmiris living there witnessed intense bloodshed. Many Sikhs and Muslims perceived to be the part of the government machinery were also targeted and killed. Our generation saw a broken Kashmir. In school, we use to be very few non-Muslims in the class. It was no more a heterogeneous society. The violence took over to the streets and homes. During this movement, fun and places of entertainment were, seen as anti-Islamic. Theaters were closed down and they have never opened since then. I remember many years later in Jammu, when I, for the first time entered a movie theater to see “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge”. I was amazed to see the screen and crowd. I said to my mother, ‘Such a big television!’
I can still feel the excitement of that moment. Even the small things are sometimes the biggest privileges of our lives.
Seven decades later today after the horrific period of 1947, Baramulla is still a town of love and tragedy. People of this town have faced the violent tribal invasion and three decades of militancy. Interestingly everything what other Kashmir is witnessing today, people of Baramulla have witnessed this years ago.
Interestingly, Baramulla also has a linguistic border with the rest of Kashmir as it is right on the cusp of the ‘Kashmiri’ and ‘Pahari’ languages. After crossing Baramulla, you will hardly meet anyone who speaks Kashmiri. This town breaks the myth of many that all ‘Kashmiri must be Kashmir speaking’. Here, you have Muslims who speak Pahari and Kashmiri with equal ease. If you go to Baramulla even today, do not be shocked to see the turbaned Sikh boys roaming around on Royal Enfield Bullet motorcycles and scooters. If you delve further into the colonies of the town, you will find few Christian and Hindus families, still living there.
Even today, the evening is still as beautiful, the pristine winds off the banks of Jhelum, still blows quietly, caressing this small surreal town, through the roar of the water. The Gurudwara, the Church, the Temple, and the Mosque are still there but people are broken and so is the society. I will wait for the day when Regina Theater will open again to watch a movie. I imagine myself walking from my house from Noor Bagh to buy a ticket, sip a cup of coffee on the banks of Jhelum, and come back home. I know its long wait, but I will still wait.
